Shattered Spirits
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: The destruction of the Worldstone, the manipulations of the Prime Evils...Tyrael had failed Sanctuary. Failed so spectacuarly that he had to seek solace on Azeroth before daring to face his fellow archangels. His spirit was broken...


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**Shattered Spirits**

"You know, some mortals might call hanging around a graveyard morbid."

"Perhaps...but we're not mortals are we?"

That, Tyrael didn't doubt. Granted, the spirit healer residing at the Raven Hill Cemetery _could _have been a mortal, and _could _have been lying to him, but those possibilities were in the same realm of the belief that everyone in this world of Azeroth was controlled by the so-called Great Metal Hand in the Sky. So unlikely that it wasn't even worth considering...for the most part. Right now, Tyrael was willing to indulge in anything that might take his mind off what had happened on Sanctuary...and what was fated to happen in turn.

"I also know that you're not of this world," the angelic being continued. "So not being a mortal, and therefore not being under my protection, speak or begone."

_And thus I get a taste of what the Angiris Council has in store for me._

Or rather, a taste of the "begone" part. Tyrael somehow doubted that any of his fellow archangels would give him a chance to speak before committing him to the same obscurity as Imperius.

"I thought you might be one of my own at first," the Archangel of Justice began, running a gauntlet-covered hands over one of the many gravestones on the hill. "One who also believed that the followers of the Light are obliged to...assist mortals. Mortals that, as I noticed in your case, seem bent on killing each other. Mortals that hold a wide variety of beliefs, the Light being but one of them."

The spirit healer nodded slowly, though it was difficult to tell whether this act was in sorrow, acceptance or both. Looking at her know, content to be an observer, Tyrael could see that as similar as this being was to his own ilk, there were still substantial differences. She was paler for one thing, almost transparent, with a soft blue glow extending across her body and wings. Wings that stretched like tendrils and therefore akin to the archangel's own, but more...gentle. Less gaudy, as was the rest of her. Clad in his golden armour, the archangel couldn't but feel like he was the oddity here.

"The mortals of this world fight each other, it is true," the spirit healer conceded eventually. "Perhaps they always will. But whatever they believe, whatever they hold dear, I and my sisters do what we can. If we can save even one life out of ten, it is worth it."

"But don't you wish you could do more?"

The being lowered her visage. "Always," she said sadly.

Silence fell over the beings, one that extended throughout the cemetery and down the hill's slopes. Silence that was sorrow for the spirit healer, and in Tyrael's case, bitter regret. He knew why he came here, even if his counterpart didn't. He wanted...needed, someone...or something...to assure him that...well, he didn't know what to assure him of, because he didn't know if he could be assured of anything again. The Worldstone was destroyed. Even in death, the Prime Evils had won. Sanctuary was open to invasion and there were those among Heaven who would sooner see it destroyed than let it fall to Hell. And deep down, he knew he'd set it in motion. True, the Prime Evils had planned this ever since the Dark Exile, but he'd been the one to give the three brothers the means to do it. He'd instructed the Horadrim to create the soulstones and in doing so, inadvertently giving the lords of Hatred, Destruction and Terror the means to achieve their goals. Hundreds of years of helping the mortal realm, and for all he knew, he'd doomed it to hellfire or fire of the cleansing kind.

Right now, in this world called Azeroth, Tyrael didn't know which fate was worse.

So maybe that was why he was here. Why he'd come to this... "spirit healer." Why he sought out companionship before judgement was cast down on him as well.

Maybe his spirit needed healing as well.

* * *

_A/N_

_Yet another similarity-based crossover, this time on the similar appearences of _Warcraft _spirit healers and _Diablo _angels (or at least archangels). Admittedly I'm taking a gamble as to Tyrael's personality-I can't help but wonder if he might have ulterior motives in regards to the soulstones and destroying the Worldstone, and info from ComicCon in regards to _Sword of Justice _seems to add to this. Still, he could be a compassionate immortal for all I know, hence coming up with this._


End file.
